


Dreams

by Evaine



Series: The Jamie and Squirt Chronicles [3]
Category: Metallica
Genre: M/M, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-25
Updated: 2010-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evaine/pseuds/Evaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're young and the world is up for grabs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams

Lars tumbled through the back door of the garage, barely keeping his footing on the slick grass, or what passed for grass in the backyard of their small house. He paused for a moment, hitching up his jeans and straightening his t-shirt, then brushed strands of sweat-dampened hair from his face.

Damn, it must be ten – even fifteen - degrees cooler out here. He peered through the darkness. Why wasn’t anyone else out here? It was so fucking hot in the people-filled house; was everyone that drunk or stoned that it didn’t matter? Of course, it could be that it had been pouring rain not fifteen minutes earlier, he realised, looking down at his wet bare feet. He shrugged. At least it wasn’t stifling out here.

He picked his way around the junk that littered the yard, heading towards the picnic table in the far corner. He just wanted to sit for a while, let his head stop spinning then head back inside for another beer. And put some space between him and that persistent blonde chick that seemed to have her sights set on him. Her high-pitched giggle set his nerves on edge; even if she was perfectly fuckable, the thought of hearing that sound at the most inopportune of times made him curl his lip in distaste.

“Shit… fuck… mutherfuck!” He planted his foot firmly on what had to be the sharpest thing in existence and began hopping around, cursing under his breath.

“Careful, Squirt.” James’ drawling tones cut him off mid-curse. “Lots of shit out here.”

“Fuck, not shit too!” Lars froze and peered at the ground around him. Soft chuckles came from the darkness. His eyes finally adjusted to the night, Lars could make out the long form of his friend stretched out on the picnic table.

“Sit down before you hurt yourself,” James suggested, twisting so that he lay on his side, his head resting on his bent arm.

“Isn’t it wet?” Lars made his way gingerly to the table.

“Like you’re not sweating like a pig from being inside,” James pointed out. “Besides, it kinda helps to cool off.” His words were just slurred enough to tell Lars that James was as inebriated as he was. Just this side of shit-faced.

“Is that what you’re doing out here? Cooling off?” Lars plopped down on the bench of the picnic table and pulled his foot up close to his face to inspect the damage.

“Yeah, sorta.”

“Sorta?” Lars could see no damage to his foot and with a disgusted snort let it drop. He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back, flipping up his hair so as not to catch it on the ragged edge of the table.

“Wanted to think,” James said. “It was gettin’ too loud in there, too many people… just too much of everything.”

“Think about what?” Lars looked up at the night sky. The clouds were clearing up and the stars were beginning to twinkle against the blackness. A soft breeze came up and he closed his eyes in pleasure as it cooled his hot face. He loved the night.

“We’re going to New York, Squirt.” James’ voice was low but the suppressed excitement was evident. A grin began to spread over Lars’ features. They were going to New York… the next step… the next rung on the ladder.

“It’s pretty cool, eh?” Lars marvelled. Their hard work was paying off. The band was on its way. “It’s gonna take all the money we’ve got and then some, but, fuck, it’ll be so worth it.” His dream… James’ dream… it was really happening.

“We’re gonna be big, I can feel it.” There was a dreamy quality to James’ voice, far removed from the gruff tones Lars was used to.

“We’ll have a record deal in no time. Now that we have a manager, people interested, a buzz… fuck, it’s gonna be something, James, really something.” Lars felt a bubble of excitement grow in his chest and his feet began to tap together in happy anticipation.

“But we’ll do it our way.” James was firm. “The way we want. Nobody’s gonna tell us how to run our shit, man.” Lars could feel James’ fingers begin to rake through the hair at the back of his head as he spoke. He closed his eyes, enjoying the slow rhythm, his feet moving not quite so fast as he relaxed.

“We’ll rule the fucking world, man.” Lars murmured. “Show ‘em how it should be done. The ‘Tallica way.” He smiled contentedly at the thought, enjoying the feel of James fingers combing through his hair.

“Motorhead… Sabbath… Maiden… we’ll be bigger than them.” James continued with his vision of the future. “We’ll be the headliners… man… we’ll even be the single draw. The stage… we’ll own it. Our music. Our way.”

“The kids’ll be screaming for us, James. For us.” Lars shifted, turning to straddle the bench, leaning his cheek against one upright fist as he looked at James. “They’ll be yelling our names, man. Ours. They’ll be screaming for Metallica.”

“Yeah.” James’ teeth gleamed in the darkness. His fingers were still tangled around strands of Lars’ hair. “Yeah.”

“And we’ll have houses, and cars, and fucking huge boats.” Lars’ knees began to bounce with excitement again on either side of the bench.

“Boats?” James chuckled. Lars shrugged and grinned.

“Sure, why the fuck not, don’t all the big stars have big whaddya callems – yachts?”

“Yeah, we’ll have fucking yachts.” James snorted in amusement and Lars grinned. He had visions of sitting on the deck of something large and white sipping… what would he be sipping… champagne? He’d never tasted champagne, but it seemed to be the thing to sip on the deck of a yacht.

“We’ll own the world, Jamie. It’s gonna be all ours.” Lars sighed happily, losing himself in his dreams.

“Yeah… ours….” James’ voice became almost wistful. “You and me right? We won’t let it fuck us up, right? Friends ‘til the fuckin’ end?” Lars recognised the note of insecurity in James’ tone and thought, fleetingly, that James must have consumed more beer than he’d originally thought if he was letting those emotions through, the ones that followed the nightmares.

“To the end, man.” He reached out with one hand to clap James on the shoulder and found it suddenly gripped by James’ larger hand. Their eyes met for a long moment, then James’ head leaned forward. It was a light and… sweet… kiss, like never before. Lars’ heart began to race and he gripped James’ hand tighter.

“Lars… I….”

A door slammed behind them, causing them both to jump and the moment was gone… shattered. Lars glanced over his shoulder and thought he glimpsed a mop of fiery red hair through the window of the garage door. Fucking Mustaine.

“Fuck.” James sighed and rolled onto his back, releasing Lars’ hand and folding his own across his stomach. Through the befuddling fumes of alcohol still winding through his brain, Lars felt a sense of loss, of sadness, of a moment broken and lost. It confused him. He pushed the feeling aside to be examined later. Another time.

“We’ll own the world, right?” James voice was soft in the quiet darkness. The sky had begun to cloud over again.

“Yep. I promise,” Lars said. A soft drizzle began to fall as James’ fingers crept back into his.  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to Ang for being a super beta! AND giving me tons of encouragement when I was needing it.


End file.
